


The Great Artist

by cheride



Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Character Study, Complicated Relationships, Episode Related, Episode: s01e14 Out of the Box, Gen, Lies, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27235951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheride/pseuds/cheride
Summary: Neal and Alex go skinny dipping. What's he thinking?  Character study set during S01E14, Out of the Box.
Relationships: Neal Caffrey & Alex Hunter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	The Great Artist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mollygail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollygail/gifts).



> A couple of months ago now, [Mollygail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollygail/pseuds/Mollygail) asked me what Neal was thinking when he was with Alex in that fairly memorable swimming pool scene. I've been dragging my heels trying to figure it out, but she probably needs a bit of a distraction right now, so I hope she likes where this ended up.
> 
> Thanks to drwhogirl for giving this a read-through to make sure I hadn't missed the mark entirely.
> 
> All dialogue here is taken directly from the episode, "Out of the Box."

> _**The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is.**_ **—** Willa Cather

He hadn’t lied; Neal’s conscience was clear on that point as he made his way to the appointed address. June really _was_ throwing a champagne brunch today, and it wasn’t his fault if Peter assumed that the reason he wanted to leave work early was to attend said brunch. Except, of course, it was _entirely_ his fault, since that’s precisely what he’d intended Peter to believe. It bothered him a little, even that minor deceit when aimed at his FBI handler. Maybe there would be time to make an appearance at the brunch after he met with Alex, make his non-lie just a little bit more truthful; he’d like to stay in Peter’s good graces as long as he possibly could.

Neal was pensive as he strode briskly along the New York City sidewalks, the winter wind cutting through his coat. He could feel things were coming to a head; he just didn’t yet have a clear picture of exactly what that meant. He’d get the music box soon, assuming Alex was finally ready to give up her information, and that should let him rescue Kate from Fowler, or whoever else was pulling the strings, but beyond that . . .

Things had begun to feel different for him in the last six months, since he’d started working with the FBI. _Since you started working with **Peter** ,_ his mind clarified. Neal Caffrey, con artist extraordinaire and master of the non-lie, tried to at least be honest with himself. And as much as he knew he had to get the music box and had to help Kate, he also knew doing so would burn some bridges he wasn’t really ready to burn, but he didn’t think there was going to be a way around that. And as he hurried to his appointment, it wasn’t lost on him that Alex Hunter might end up on the wrong side of one of those burned bridges, but he hoped not.

He slowed his step, double-checked the address on the building, then reached for the door, wishing there were some way— _any_ way—that he could have it all.

One of the things Neal had always enjoyed most about Alex was that she could so often surprise him. That wasn’t typically something he’d consider a positive in his line of work, but Alex had always been an exception in a lot of ways. Even so, walking inside to find her swimming naked in a room that didn’t feel a whole lot warmer than the winter day he’d just left outside the door might literally have been the last thing he’d expected. But Neal Caffrey didn’t get to _be_ a con artist extraordinaire by being so easily thrown off his game. He offered her a simple greeting, totally ignoring her lack of swim attire.

“Got your message. I was wondering when you were gonna call.”

He heard the invitation to join her and tempered his rejection with one of the wry, self-deprecating smiles that he knew she loved. Tempting as it might be (and Alex was _always_ tempting, though he knew that was unfair to both Kate _and_ Alex), he needed information she was unlikely to give once she saw his anklet.

But then, after an alluring smile and just a hint of a suggestive memory, Alex was back to business, and it was like she was reading his mind. “Relax, I know you’re wearing the anklet. What I don’t know is if you’re wired.”

Neal wondered briefly if she distrusted him now despite their history or because of it, though the result was the same. And, either way, he couldn’t change it at this moment, no matter how much he might wish that he could. The next invitation Alex offered sounded enough like a directive that Neal knew he had to obey if he had any hope of finding out what she knew about the box.

Alex watched him intently as he began to undress, a little too much hunger in her eyes to be only interested in a possible wire. For his part, Neal tried not to think. Not about the impossibly long and lonely four and a half years since he’d been locked up. And certainly not about his first time with Alex right here in this very city, or the last time on the other side of the ocean. Or all the other times in between when he had tried to ignore his heart crying out for Kate and Alex had been willing to pretend she didn’t know how badly he failed.

Finally free of his clothing, Neal dove in quickly, slicing cleanly through the water. Any hope he might’ve had that the pool would be heated died on impact. He wasn’t sure if that made it more likely he could get out of this place without further Alex entanglements, or if it just meant a warm body would be all the more welcome for them both. Trying to keep Kate at the front of his mind, he got down to business. “Where’s the music box, Alex?”

But Alex obviously would prefer his mind to be on things other than Kate, and she called him out on his lack of small talk, a flirtatious grin pulling at her lips. Neal kept her on task, reminding her she’d already told him the box was in Manhattan somewhere, and she followed his lead back to the business at hand. “I want to make sure you’re not going to go and get it without me.”

His next non-lie came without a moment’s hesitation, and he hated it. “I told you; we’ll get it together.”

It was the nature of his business, the half-truths, the crosses and double-crosses. He knew this, and he knew Alex knew it, too—he could see it in the way she studied him for a half-second longer than necessary, recognizing the fact that he had his own agenda, but finally choosing to tell him what he needed to know anyway. At least, she told him most of it, the part about the Italian Consul General, though he noticed a few key details were withheld, undoubtedly to ensure continued cooperation. Yes, it was the nature of what they were, separately and together, but a part of him still hated it.

But Neal smiled at her anyway because he knew he was collecting memories, moments that might become “last times.” Besides, whether they played against each other or together, the game was always fun with Alex. “The consulate’s a hard target.”

“They’re having a party next week,” she told him, looking like she was having fun herself. “It’s our chance to get inside.”

“I’m always up for a party.” But there was an obvious consideration. “What happens when he notices it’s gone?”

Alex was still toying with him, giving him only the first crumb of information about the Nazis and the Russians, looking almost coy, though she was nowhere near innocent enough to pull it off completely. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t effective, and, adding to his list of things to hate, Neal hated the way he was pulled so easily under her spell. He still had Kate to think about, after all.

But assuming Alex’s information was good—and it almost always was—the Consul General didn’t have any more claim to the music box than they did, so the Italians certainly weren’t going to be reporting its theft to the police. . . or the FBI. Neal smiled. That was very good news. And as long as the news was good on the business front, and since Alex seemed particularly playful right now, he might as well try and put her a bit off her game, too.

“I’ve got a question,” Neal grinned at her. “I know why I’m naked; why are you?” And in that instant, he honestly wasn’t sure what he hoped her answer would be.

But, then, though she offered him a sultry look and swam provocatively close to him, Alex swam away again just as quickly, circling him, teasing him. He almost thought it was fair; he knew Alex believed he had teased her repeatedly in the past, though Neal always thought he’d been as honest as he knew how to be.

So, Neal went back to business, tried to get more details about the safe where the music box was stored, and tried not to think about how he’d use that information to cut Alex entirely out of the deal. But Alex knew how to tease in a lot of things, and she’d (almost) always been too smart to lose sight of who Neal really was.

Finally, Alex pulled close to him again, placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek, told him she’d be in touch, and then swam away. Neal watched her climb gracefully from the water, appreciating her beauty. And, if he was honest, he appreciated that she hadn’t wanted to do more than tease. He’d like to think that he’d be true to Kate, especially now, when he was so close to being reunited with his love, but Neal could admit he was an opportunist, and Alex was as attractive as always. It made him doubt his commitment to Kate, if only for a moment, and if Kate wasn’t the bedrock of his life that he believed, then why was he willing to destroy everything for her?

But it was only a moment, and then his mind was back to the music box. That was really the only thing that mattered right now, and he’d long ago decided he’d do whatever was necessary to get it. He didn’t allow himself to think about the people he’d likely disappoint along the way—not just Alex, but Peter, Elizabeth, June, maybe even Mozzie, before everything was done. He didn’t have to like it; he just had to find a way to get it done.

He waited until Alex had dressed and gone before he pulled himself from the pool and made use of the towel she’d left for him. He dressed slowly, a small, thoughtful smile on his lips. It didn’t matter that they teased each other, _used_ each other; he still hoped that when all the dust settled, Alex would end up on his side of the burned bridges. But either way, they at least had one more job to do. If he believed in fate, Neal might think that they were somehow always destined to get the music box together. Maybe that would even mean he was destined to betray her in order to save Kate. Part of Neal would like that, absolving him of all responsibility for his selfishness and Alex’s heartache—except for the fact that he did try to at least be honest with himself.

No, he thought, as he adjusted his tie one last time and made sure the tie bar was perfectly positioned, there really wouldn’t be anyone but himself to blame if and when things came crashing down. He might yet find some way to have it all, but, if not, he’d at least have Kate, and she was at least the beginning of everything, no matter who he had to con or what he had to give up along the way.

Even so, Neal Caffrey stepped back out into the cold December wind determined to make it back to Riverside Drive before June’s champagne brunch was over, to make at least one of his non-lies just a little bit more true.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, technically, Mollygail wanted to know how Neal could sleep with Alex when he was supposed to be so in love with Kate, so I cheated a little bit, but in my headcanon, Neal is maybe a _**tiny**_ bit more honorable than his creators intended.
> 
> I should also probably clarify that I don't necessarily agree with that opening quote, but it did seem to fit Neal somehow.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and, as always, feel free to share any thoughts, good, bad, or otherwise!


End file.
